


We Make Our Own Traditions

by ETEXAL



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Fic!, Fluff, Gift Fic, Jonerys, Jonerys Secret Santa Fic 2019, Jon’s POV (which was a total surprise), No Plot, Winter Solstice, historical references at a minor glance, it’s ridiculously late and I’m so sorry but LIFE happened in a major way, like super marshmallow fluff because I’m soft beyond words, two cute youngsters being young and cute and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETEXAL/pseuds/ETEXAL
Summary: Winter Solstice celebrations are meant for merriment and food, as well as family and loved ones. And maybe a few sweet surprises.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 25
Kudos: 64





	We Make Our Own Traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drakhus67820](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakhus67820/gifts).



> So, before I go any further, I just want to say that I have even more respect for authors and creators of all kinds than I did when I began this new adventure. Just the thought of hitting “post” and sending this little teeny story out into the universe was extremely daunting. Mad, mad respect to everyone out there doing just that, and especially those who do it so frequently. It takes a lot of courage to invest time and thought into something, knowing that it won’t please everyone and some people will be quite vocal about it. But nonetheless, y’all persist, and I’m awed. 
> 
> This is my extremely humble contribution to the Jonerys Secret Santa exchange for 2019, and my first foray back into writing in over a decade. Drakhus, this is for you! You were so kind to give me an easy prompt - wide open canon AU, maybe Jon and Dany meet early, fluff, and pretty much up for whatever. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did in creating it. 
> 
> Being the nerd that I am, my brain went in about a thousand directions and possibilities, and before I could even begin to understand what was happening, I had a wild, insane idea that was going to take far more time/skill than what I have. So this story is me simply dipping my toe into a possible AU that I may write in the far distant future. I wanted to make sure that this can stand alone if need be, but also, maybe paint a small picture of possibilities. 
> 
> Since it’s the holidays (scratch that, it WAS the holidays), I really, really wanted something holiday themed, so Winter Solstice it is! I got to read some pretty interesting stuff about the origins of many different celebrations and customs surrounding Winter Solstice/Yule. There is a mash-up of a few European cultures in here, with some historical fun facts to boot, but it’s mainly just about two young people enjoying a celebration and thinking about the future. Oh, and some food, because medieval style feasts sound pretty awesome.
> 
> No real plot, just soft and fluffy sweetness. And kissing! Can’t forget about the holiday kissing!

* * *

_It’s too damn hot in here. Bloody hells, it feels like being back in Oldtown. I’m going to melt into a puddle. This might be how I die._

Jon deeply regretted wearing his heavier woolen clothes to the feast. Despite the frigid chill that had ensnared the North in the past few moons, between the fires roaring in their hearths, scalding water from the hot springs flowing between the stone walls of the keep, and all the people packed into the room, the Great Hall was uncomfortably warm. Sweat formed at the small of his back, more reminiscent of summer days than the blustery snow he knew was outside of the walls. 

He’d already shed his cloak and outer coat, the dense, heavy wool and fur linings too much for the stifling heat currently roiling through room, and was wondering if he could go down to his linen shirt without catching judgmental glares from his family, or the other lords and ladies that were in attendance. 

_I don’t fucking care at this point._

From his corner, nearly hidden behind the great Sentinel evergreen that was the centerpiece of the whole celebration, Jon could observe his family and guests, and their merriment was as abundant as the warmth. There was one guest in particular that his eyes roamed about the room for, but she had not arrived into the hall yet, and he knew her to be a captive audience to Sansa and her gaggle of ladies. How they could possibly improve on her beauty, he was unsure, but Sansa was over the moon to finally have another _lady_ with whom she could titter over fashionable trappings with. She had given up on Arya long ago, and poor Dany would never tell Sansa that practicing archery or spending time in the library sounded more appealing than sewing or styling hair. Or whatever it was ladies did in their solars.

Attempting not to be too obvious in his anticipation, Jon set his eyes onto the oaken tables nearby, piled high with foodstuff and drinks only prepared on the most special of occasions. _The lady of the house has outdone herself this year,_ he thought begrudgingly. 

There was no denying that the spread laid out before them was as fit for royalty as any to be found in all the great house in Westeros, for the Starks took great pride in their festivities surrounding the Winter Solstice. There would be no rationing or skimping to usher in the celebration and traditions his family could trace back for thousands of years. Like all people of the North, Jon’s family came from a land steeped in old magic, elemental to its core and beyond the memory of most books and journals in the Citadel. They would cling to these old traditions, even if their origins had long since passed to legend and the edge of understanding. 

Amongst the fare, he spied a few of his favorites — roasted quince, honeyed chicken, cod cakes, and plates of winter squashes prepared in a variety of ways. A few more _exotic_ choices were there, too. Ones he knew would be startling to a Southron’s palate. He had half a mind to warn Dany away from them, knowing from his travels that not everyone had the stomach for his homeland’s unique tastes.They were a people bound by the need to be economical and inventive with their wintry bounties and it produced some _acquired tastes,_ but he also knew she would never dream to slight his family by turning down anything offered, no matter how foreign or strange it appeared to be.

As Jon glanced up, the object of his thoughts appeared with his sister and her friends, finally ready to join the rest of the Hall before the feasting began.

Though he had seen her the day before during her arrival, and earlier this morning at breakfast, her mere presence captivated him all over again. The seven moons since he’d seen her in Oldtown had changed her in subtle ways, and they were all most pleasing to the eye. Gone was the quietly determined girl he’d sparred against, with sticks in her hair and mud on her boyish breeches. She’d reminded him of Arya in all her wildness, but the Dany walking through the door was as much as Lady as Sansa could ever hope to become, and not just because of her silken gown. Everything about her countenance had become refined and polished, but not in the cold way so many ladies adopted. No, Dany was warmth and kindness and fierceness. To be near her was both a comfort and an exhilarating, exhausting, enchanting adventure. 

The moment their eyes met, all other noise and activity faded around him. Dany was _finally_ here, in his home, present for the most sacred of celebrations. His bookish, brave, curious Dany was here and she was going to get to experience all of the traditions he’d been telling her about for years. Jon had a hard time deciding which he was most excited to share. 

As the group came further into the hall, Jon slowly gravitated her way, intent on having her near him as the celebration got underway, but she was quickly set upon by an overly-excited Arya, while he was halted in his tracks by Robb and Theon. 

_They’re actually conspiring against me. Gods save me!_

“Jon!” The knowing smirk on Robb’s face threatened to ruin his good mood, as he was already anticipating the jokes he was about to hear at his own expense. Closing his eyes and sighing in preparation, Jon braced himself as his brother slapped his back jovially. 

“Is that Dany I see over there? Does it look like she’s dressed up for the occasion tonight? Did she do up her hair? I can’t tell! What do you think?” Robb asked jokingly, ready to heckle his brother at every turn, knowing how on edge Jon had been for weeks before Dany’s arrival to Winterfell. From the moment he had outlined his plans to his father and brother, even though he had readily agreed to help, Robb had not missed an opportunity to take the absolute piss out of him. If nothing else, for good or ill, Jon was glad everything would be resolved tonight. “She doesn’t look like the ghost of the library anymore. Well, I mean, her hair is still as pale as a ghost, but she’s not covered in ink or dust at least!”

“Yeah, Jon,” Theon parroted, taking every chance he could to needle at Jon. Even after agreeing to assist him and Robb with his preparations for Dany’s gift, Theon was mostly still an insufferable ass. Jon had never quite figured out why Robb tolerated him, let alone spent time with him voluntarily. “She doesn’t look anything like a ghost. In fact, she looks like she might enjoy a bit of mistletoe, yeah? I think I have some here in my pocket. Maybe I’ll go say hello to her, introduce to her a few Northern traditions.”

The idea of Theon anywhere near Dany, mistletoe or not, was enough to test the very last of Jon’s patience. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her with that, Theon. I mean it. I will throttle you if you do.”

While nothing much could make Theon behave seriously most of the time, Robb could see the intent in Jon’s eyes, and did his best to soothe ruffled feathers. He patted Jon’s shoulder again. “Relax, brother. Theon and I will leave you two to it. It’s nice to know we’ll finally be able to enjoy our downtime again, instead of helping you with your present. It’s been moons and I’ve still got splinters from splitting all the wood. Go on,” he shoved Jon a bit. “I’ll untangle her from Arya and you can sweep in and save your lady.”

As Robb moved to save Dany from their inquisitive sister, and Theon left to harass some poor, unsuspecting soul, Jon made his way toward the Great Tree, whose grey-green needles had been painstakingly decorated with countless colored silk ribbons, delicate glass baubles, and small, brilliantly shining jewels gleamed throughout. When the candlelight struck the glass and gems, it reminded him of when he was a young boy and he thought the ornaments had shone like the very stars had been brought inside to be set amongst the boughs. 

“Jon.” Dany’s soft voice drew him from his momentary reverie, and he turned to find her nearer to him than she had been since her arrival to Winterfell. It was a struggle to contain his giddiness at _finally_ having a moment alone with her, even in a crowded hall. 

“Is it not as magical as I promised it would be, Dany?”

His simple question brought a smile to her face. Eight long years he’d been promising her that the Winter Solstice celebrations in Winterfell couldn’t be rivaled anywhere else in the Seven Kingdoms. 

And it was true. 

“It’s more than I pictured in my mind. All these years, you’ve been telling me about this celebration, and yet I find myself wholly unprepared for its splendor. It’s _lovely._ ”

_Lovely_ was a mild word to describe the greenery spread throughout the all. Beyond the tree, the room and doors were trimmed heavily with clipped boughs of pine, oak, ironwood, ash, and chestnut. Several large fires were roaring away in their hearths, more than enough to keep the room warm against the bitter cold raging outside the walls.

“Everything you see here is symbolic of the reasons we celebrate. From the food to the decorations to the toast later on, it all represents something important. My siblings would call it all woefully boring, but I could go on for hours if you want me to, or answer any questions you might have.”

He smiled widely, knowing well her weakness for learning. Too many nights, she’d read in her room by the waning candlelight, straining her eyes just a bit to expand her understanding of the world beyond the Citadel. He’d mocked her many times for the inky smudges that would end up on her hands and face. The maesters were constantly scolding her for taking books beyond the library, but no one’s admonition could stop her from her nightly rituals.

“Tell me all that you can, Jon. I don’t want to make a misstep or miss out on something important.”

Dany’s enthusiasm for knowledge was only one of many things he greatly admired about her, but it was touching all the same that she was so sincere in her desire to learn more about his home. Despite his siblings constant bombardment of jokes and jests, he knew that she appreciated all the small details he had shared over the years because she encouraged it constantly.

“The most obvious thing is there, the Sentinel that’s been decorated. Besides being beautiful, all the elements represent what we’re celebrating. You see the silk ribbons, there? They’re all different colors. Red is for blood, which gives life. The green represents the land and earth, which also gives life through vegetation and nourishment to our bodies. Gold is for the sun, which we know will return with longer and longer days, until it rules over the sky again.”

“And what about the jewels, what do they stand for?”

“They stand for much of the same. I admit, those are also to show my family’s wealth and standing. Not all Northern families have rubies, bloodstones, and emeralds woven in their trees.”

“Are the baubles catching the light made of glass,” she asked excitedly.

“Yes! When father was younger, he traveled across the Narrow Sea, and saw that their glass smiths were skilled beyond window and mirror making. They use tools to blow into and create the orbs you see. When they catch the candlelight, they look lit from within. Once he married his lady wife, they were a gift he had imported for their first Solstice together.”

“The Solstice celebration has always been important to your family, yes?”

“To my family, and all of the North, really. As the realm most likely to experience the coldest winters, we cling to the traditions that honor the Old Gods and their promise to return kinder days to us.”

Jon remembered well the stories he had weaved for her during their time at the Citadel. He would talk of the food, the merriment. Of how he would dance and sing with his siblings, or that they would exchange gifts and dine on foods and desserts that were only ever made for this one time of the year. And she had told him more than once that all of his stories were laced with such fondness and longing that she, too, found herself wanting those same experiences and memories some day. _Soon, I will give them to her._

“What does Theon have a hold of? Why is he chasing maidens with cuttings?”

“Oh! That’s mistletoe. Anyone caught under it must kiss!”

Her coy look could fool anyone but him. “And do you want to kiss me, Jon Snow, under the mistletoe?”

He had planned a gift for her, one that he knew she would treasure above all others. The anticipation of sharing that was nearly his undoing. His plans had been in motion for many moons, and only in recent days, had all the elements come together perfectly. They just had to get through the feast first, a task that seemed both enjoyable and daunting at the same time.

“Patience, Dany,” he laughed, both flattered and flustered by her boldness despite who might hear her. “There will be plenty of time for mistletoe later. First, we dine and toast, then I have something I want to show you later.” The promise of a surprise would only drive her mad, he knew, and her expressive eyebrows quirking up only made his smile grow bigger. “I did promise food. You’ll have to be good and wait until later for other things.”

“I have many virtues, Jon,” she replied imperiously, trying to keep her face stern. “I _can_ be patient if I choose to be, you know?”

“Of course!” His mocking nod made her serious facade crack ever so slightly, and he took the opportunity to lead her to the table where his siblings were seated. 

Nestled in between him and Arya, Dany stood little chance of escaping all the foods and drinks being passed around, nor avoiding the questions spilling out toward her at a rapid rate. Having everyone he cared for so near, celebrating his favorite holiday, and enjoying the trimmings of all that entailed left Jon feeling more content than he had ever imagined possible. 

Time passed with laughter and stories and warmth. Before he knew it, his father was standing in the middle of the Hall, before the Great Tree, his goblet in hand. 

While Ned addressed all present, reminding them of the reasons they were celebrating and the hopes for the coming year, Jon took the opportunity to lean in closer to Dany, while pouring her a drink to salute with.

“This is wassail,” he whispered. “It is meant to toast to all present, wishing them good health and fortune for the coming year.”

Jon knew she did not have a particularly discerning palate, but the questionable look she gave him as he passed over the goblet filled with the creamy drink gave him a slight pause. Though it was a traditional drink, it was also one of the few things many people who were not from the North decidedly did _not_ enjoy while visiting his home, but he didn’t wish to insult Dany by not serving it. He also knew she wanted to experience as many of the traditions here as possible, and she didn’t wish to offend any present.

“It’s fine, Dany. Just take a sip or two after the toast, and you don’t have to finish the rest,” he assured her. While his father finished his speech, he and his siblings kept their eyes firmly on her, knowing what was most likely about to occur. His gaze was of mild concern, but he knew the rest were hoping to be entertained.

Dany tentatively raised the glass to her lips, and took a small sip. While he could normally read her quite well, her face remained indiscernible as she pondered the contents of the cup. Besides a minute tightening around her eyes, she said or did nothing to give away how she felt. 

She proceeded to drain the entire cup.

Jon paused his own drinking, and could see from the corner of his eye that his siblings had done the same. _Well, that was unexpected._

“Have I erred in some way? Because the expressions on your faces say that something is amiss.” Her primly worded question was accompanied by her delicate hand wiping her mouth in a decidedly _unprimly_ manner. She would not have been misplaced in an ale house in that exact moment, and Jon fought to hide his smile in his own cup.

“Jon, I think I’m in love with Dany,” Robb cried out in awe. Before he could chastise his brother for bringing up such topics, Arya jumped right in, too. “She didn’t even spew! Jon, JON, she has to be the _one!_ ” 

Everyone’s chatter raised in volume, talking over each other excitedly, and his siblings were going to be the death of him, Jon was sure, but he didn’t disagree with any of them. Dany just laughed right along.

“Was I supposed to _spew_ , as you put it, Arya? What’s all the fuss about?”

“Jon’s friend Sam spewed it all over the table last Solstice. Some even got in Sansa’s hair. It was hilarious,” Arya blurted out joyously, pointing at Sansa, and laughing. “She couldn’t leave the Hall quickly enough!”

While Arya and Sansa devolved into a sisterly squabble that would most likely necessitate Robb getting involved, the rest of the guests moved about the Hall, gathering presents to share with friends and loved ones. 

In the bustle, Dany leaned over to him, as if to share a great secret. “That was positively repulsive! Have you poisoned me?! What was in that drink? It tasted like death!” She quickly reached for a different cup, one he knew had her preferred drink, and drained it, too. 

He could not have stopped the laughter that poured out of him for anything. He had been expecting her to react the same as every Southron he’d seen drink wassail, and she had proved again that she had a will made of iron. If she hadn’t let him know of her revulsion and he hadn’t poured the drink himself, he would have guessed she drank water instead.

“It’s a simple drink, really. Just mulled ale, roasted apples, cloves, ginger, nutmeg, and sugar. Robb and I used to help make it when we were younger.” He could easily read the doubt on her face. “Oh, and curdled cream and eggs. That’s all!”

“This is only served once a year, correct?”

“Aye, Dany. You’ll only have to survive it once a year.”

Her relief was nearly palpable, and he knew now was the time to sneak away to show her to her present. He gently took her hand and rose from the table, drawing her up as well.

“Come on. I also promised you a surprise, did I not? We need to grab our cloaks first, and then I’ll take you to it.”

Like all the times before, her hand did not resist the pull of his, and she followed him without question outside.

* * *

After donning their fur-lined coats, they stepped quickly out of the keep and into the yard, where the snow had dampened all noise spilling out from the celebration. The quiet was peaceful and comfortable as they walked across the yard toward the Godswood.

When they reached the gate, Jon paused momentarily, and Dany came to stand beside him, saying nothing, but he could see the question in her eyes.

“Look up,” he requested quietly. Her quick glance upward produced both a small laugh and a smirk from her, followed soon after by a boldness that no longer surprised him. Under the mistletoe he had placed earlier in the day, she wrapped a cold hand behind his neck and brought his face downward to meet hers. _Finally._

Her lips were soft and warm pressed against his own, and she tasted faintly of the honeyed mead served at dinner. She met his own lips confidently, with a gentleness that did not devour, and without opening his eyes, he could feel her smiling against him. This was not the first time they had kissed, but it was by far the most memorable.

He had only kissed a two girls before _her_ , timidly and with caution, and neither had caused his heart to quicken in his chest, or spread warmth from his lips down to his toes. None had been intoxicating like kissing Dany was. 

_I never want to kiss another._

When they gently tapered off, he slowly opened his eyes to see the smile he had felt, and it was his favorite smile, soft and unguarded. Dany wasn’t hiding from anything or anyone at the moment. It was just the two of them, huddled closely together, white flakes drifting down slowly and glistening in her silver hair like the jewels on the Great Tree.

“Now _this_ is one of your Northern traditions I could get used to,” she said dreamily, while her hand moved from his neck to slowly caress his hair. Though she opened her eyes to peer back at him, she made no move to end their closeness. “All this talk of evergreens and the waning days, yet you never told me the Solstice involved kissing. I would have visited much sooner!”

“Aye,” he laughed. “I promised something magical, did I not? This is just a small part of it. There’s more I want to show you” 

If the Others invaded Winterfell in this moment, he was not sure he could have looked away from her gaze, nor parted from her warmth. In their affections, she moved her body closer as well, pressing fully against him. She slotted into his embrace as if by design, and Jon knew he would never tire of the feeling of Dany’s nearness. He could linger there with her all night, but he had prepared something special in anticipation of her visit, and did not want to waste all the time and effort. 

Without saying anything else, he took her by the hand, their faded cross work of scars aligning perfectly, and continued to lead her out to the Godswood, the solace and retreat of his childhood. The place his father reserved for all major and important decisions, still. Most found the dark, dense woods a daunting and foreboding place, but Dany’s pace never slowed and he knew her quiet bravery would never falter. It hadn’t in the eight years he had known her, and Jon had a difficult time imagining it ever would. 

After a few quiet minutes of walking, they came into the clearing he had prepared for her.

“Jon…” she whispered reverently. “Did...did you do all of this?” Her awed gaze swept from the ground upward, while a slow smile took over her entire face, making her expressive eyes disappear in their mirth. Her hand slipped from his as she moved closer to the Heart Tree, its own solemn eyes looking at them both.

It was difficult for him to imagine ever feeling prouder of himself than he did in this exact moment. All his moons of planning and bargaining were finally coming to fruition. The endless teasing from Robb and Arya, the starry-eyed gazes and sighs from Sansa, the ridiculously odd questions from Bran, and the knowing glances from his father — all of them worth suffering a thousand times more, just to see _this_ look on Dany’s face. 

His own smile was the only answer he could give, and he hoped Dany saw everything he meant to say within it. 

She tentatively placed her hand upon the tree, reverent in ways he appreciated beyond words. He had told her many times what this place meant to him, to his family, and he could see nothing but gentle respect as she took in the scene before her. Always unflinchingly curious, Dany stared back into the carved face for a moment, something passing through her own face he could not discern, and then she was lifting her hands into the branches to touch the glass baubles he had strung throughout. These were colored differently than the ones in the Great Hall, made by the son of the gaffer in Braavos that his father had been purchasing from since before he was born.

“You did do this! And you… did it all _for me?_ ” Her enthusiasm was contagious, and it gave him the courage to overcome his sudden silence. 

“Aye, Dany. All of this is for you.”

After letting her explore the delicate and translucent glass baubles for a few more moments, he retook her hand and led her over to the woolen blankets he had placed down to protect them from the frozen ground. They lowered themselves gracefully, and she sought his warmth immediately. Despite her fur lined coat, she was a Southron girl through and through, and the cold was unforgiving. 

“I wanted your first Winter Solstice celebration to be something you remembered always. You’ll be leaving soon, and this is a memory I wanted you to take with you on your travels.”

At the mention of her upcoming journey, Dany’s smile dimmed slightly, and Jon knew the tasks laid before her were daunting. She would never admit it openly, but he knew she was scared. He wanted nothing more than to take that fear away. It was a foreign look and he did not like it on her. And if he couldn’t take it away completely, he wanted to help carry the burden. 

_A man can only be brave when he is afraid._

A different sort of fear settled over Jon, an uncertainty he was unused to feeling. So many skills came naturally to him, and he had spent the better part of ten years honing many of them in the halls of the Citadel, but this task he knew could lay him bare. Dany had a power over him, and if she denied him… Jon was afraid he would never truly recover from it. 

To bolster himself, Jon reached a hand out to her hair, tucking a stray piece back behind her ear, then dove straight into his reasoning behind bringing her out to this most holy and beloved place.

_I want the old gods to see this — for good or ill. Please, though, let it be for good._

Inhaling deeply, he began. “I know that you’ve already made plans to further north, or maybe east, depending on what you find, and I know that you’re wary of—“

“I am not AFRAID—“ she interrupted hotly, the steel in her voice showing exactly what she thought of that word, offended that someone should dare imply it about her.

“Peace, Dany,” he laughed back. “I did not say you were _afraid._ I said you were _wary._ All those books you read, and you still don’t know the difference between fear and caution?” Jon tsked her gently, amused as always when her fiery pride took over the calmness she worked so hard to develop and maintain. She was both the same and so different from the girl of ten summers he met in the dusty, steamy streets of Oldtown.

She sighed deeply, as she always did when trying to reign in her temper, and the apology was written across her face.. 

“Of course I know the difference between the two. I’m sorry. I must be tired from my travels still. It has been a long day and I did not mean to snap at you, especially after all the effort you and your family have made to make this occasion special for us.”

“What I was going to say is that I know you’re wary of the tasks to come, however necessary they are. And they _are_ necessary! But I want you to know that you don’t have to undertake them alone.” Jon faltered momentarily here, because the next moments would change the course of their lives, and instead of the sweet words he had been practicing for weeks, he just plowed ahead without any of the finesse he had hoped for. “I have already asked my father, and your uncle, for their blessing to let us marry.”

Her eyes widened, and he could not tell if it was in awe or fear. He assumed fear and began babbling like a green boy. “Of course, with _your blessing_ as well. I would never dream of marrying you if you did not agree. I had hoped to travel with you. It would be just like when we were younger. All the stories of adventures we read in the library. I know I’m not the best match, and that other houses would seek your —“

Dany’s lips against his own silenced his nervous rambling, and he could feel her body shaking with laughter. “ _Yes,_ ” she breathed against him. “Yes, I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you since I was ten and you shoved me into the mud, but are _you_ sure? Are you sure you want to leave your home? Your family? This won’t be like at the Citadel, returning home throughout the year. We could be gone for years.”

He leaned back, taking the time to study her eyes, always so expressive to him. Softly, he caressed her face, running his thumb across her cheek. 

“I did not push you into the mud,” he replied indignantly. “You tripped on your own!” 

Before she could reply back, he continued onward. “But despite your clumsy nature, I want you to be my family. I want you to be my home. So yes, wherever you go is where I go. And there’s nothing to say we couldn’t return here from time to time.”

“And if we have to go to Essos, what then? They don’t have Solstice celebrations there, or anything resembling the traditions of the North that you are so deeply connected to. I don’t want you to regret leaving all of this behind.”

This time, he silenced her ramblings with a kiss of his own. “Then we’ll just have to make our own traditions, Dany.”

He reached around her, to a small box he’d tucked between the roots of the weirwood tree. After procuring the present within, Jon had enlisted Sansa’s help to wrap the gift, and she had sewn small beads into the blue velvet that reminded him of stars in the night sky. 

“I want this to be the first tradition we start.” As he handed her the gift, he continued onward. “I’m sure that you’ve noticed my siblings and their not so subtle hints about what I’ve been up to since we last saw each other.”

“Oh, no. They were all very clever and very subtle about everything. Besides Sansa comparing us to her stories, and Arya saying she was glad I was here since you've been a ‘complete bumbling fool’ in her words, and Robb with his, dare I say, _suggestive_ comments. Other than that, all very subtle,” she teased.

He sighed the dramatic sigh of siblings everywhere, knowing their family was doing their absolute best to embarrass them, and waited patiently until she opened the present fully. Her small gasp was enough prompting for Jon to begin again.

“Their jests and ribbings aside, I have spent the last few moons preparing all of this, and perhaps bumbling around like a fool. My father graciously agreed to let me harvest and sell a few of the Ironwood trees to carpenters across the Sea. I roped Robb and Theon into helping me, and actually travelled to Braavos myself to commission this from the son of the gaffer my father first used for his own wife.”

As he was explaining, Dany slowly lifted out the most delicate glass orb he had ever seen. It was even thinner and more crystalline than the ones in the Hall, and it had a slightly silvered sheen to it, as if it was actually made of starlight and no longer an illusion.

“I meant it when I said I wanted to begin our own traditions. There are a dozen more of these for you, all colored slightly different. When we finally make a home, these will be what we place on our own Solstice tree.”

When she didn’t say anything after several moments, a slight unease began in the pit of his stomach. Dany had the power to unmake him, same as the power she had to crush the small glass ornament in her hand. Neither would survive their fragmentation and he held his breath as she decided his future existence. 

“This is beyond anything I imagined when coming here, and I want to make traditions with you, too.”

Setting the ornament back down into its protective box, she gazed at him briefly, before leaning in to steal another kiss. “I don’t care what we do, or where we go. So long as we do it together.”

Feeling as if he could breathe deeply again, Jon agreed readily, letting the Heart Tree witness the most important vow he knew he would ever make.

“Aye, _together_.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
